Farmers & Mercenaries (40 page)

Well, Priestess, I am unsure of what road I now travel. Still, I think it has become a bit more narrow than it was before. My only hope is that it does not lead me to ruin.

T
he crushed stone path crunched under the soft soles of Alant Cor’s golden slippers. Though the weather had warmed and summer had fallen fully upon the Isle of Elmorr’eth, the foliage he walked among still bloomed in their vibrant greens, reds, yellows, and different hues of blue. Shaith Ku’rin, her dark, silky skin radiating in the warm sunlight, strolled along beside him. Alant found he had grown to enjoy her company even more than the thrill of learning from the Elmorr’Antiens.

Almost two tendays had passed since Quiln had been sent home. Alant had nearly stamped out the fear that at any moment they would come for him, rip him from his room, and do whatever it was they had done to the orphan boy.

Those red-slashed eyes, so vacant looking, still haunt my dreams.

He shuddered, and Shaith cut her jade eyes at him. “You be cold? It be near as warm here as in my own land.”

“Nix. I was just thinking.”

“You do that a lot of late. There be a saying back home, ‘Friendship be one mind in two bodies.’”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” He was never good at sayings.

She punched him in the arm. “It do mean that if you see us as friends, you should no keep secrets from me.”

Rubbing at the spot where she struck him, Alant took a deep breath. “It is not that I am keeping secrets. It is just that when I try to talk with you or Jerith about what I have heard the Elmorr’Antiens discussing, you do not believe me.”

Letting out a sniff, Shaith reached out and plucked a small, light blue flower from a bush that rested along the side of the path. “You say this like it be hard to understand. You yourself said you no speak the Elmorr’Antien tongue, yet you say you know what they say.” She brought the flower to her nose and smelled it while looking at him over the top of its thin petals.

I could drown in those green eyes.

Not for the first time, he thought of telling her about the Tarsith.

It has to be the Tarsith that lets me understand them. It is the only thing that makes sense!

Yet, he did not dare break his word to Sier Sarlimac. And not just his vow to not tell anyone, also the old Sier’s warning that people would die if an Elmorr’Antien found out about it. He could not bear the thought of anything bad happening to Shaith. Still, he wanted to tell her. “I wish I could explain, it is just—” The Tarsith radiated cold, jolting what he was about to say from his lips.

“…full again? So soon!”
Vanria Delmith’s voice came from just ahead of them, beyond the tall bushes that made up the outer wall of the hedge-maze.
“I had thought six moons was fast, yet this… It has not even been two tendays!”

“What—” At Shaith’s first word, Alant covered her mouth with his hand and pushed her off the path into a small thicket of plants.

“I am just as surprised as you.”
The snide voice of Prince Aritian floated from the same location.
“Still, I am sure. I went to the Chi’utlan as soon as I arrived. It is filled to the brim.”

“I agree, my Prince, it must mean something.”
Delmith’s voice sounded both filled with excitement and dread all at once.
“Never before has the Chi’utlan filled faster than a full turn of the season, then, when the last filled in half that time, I thought mayhaps. Yet now…”

“Yes! That is why I want the strongest this time.”

A tingling cascaded down Alant’s back.

“Alant? It is too soon. The Shapers in Mocley may question—”

The Prince cut off whatever Delmith was going to say.
“I question why you would argue with me over this. I question whether you have forgotten who you owe so much to.”
Vanria Delmith made a strangling sound that Prince Aritian continued speaking over.
“You seem to have an interest in this Alant creature that goes beyond a simple curiosity of their race. Tell me why.”
Silence stretched between the two Elmorians and Alant was afraid they had walked deeper into the hedge-maze.
“Tell me why. Now!”

“As you say, my Prince, it shall be done.”
Alant heard the strain in Delmith’s tone.
“I am simply concerned that a second Ro’Arithian may lead to suspicion. Using the Silawaian, the boy from the warrior class, would raise less suspicion.”

“Do not presume too much with me, Delmith. Besides, if it is the Humans you are worried about, a message has already been sent to the Chandril’elian in Mocley informing them about Alant.”
The Elmorr’Antien Prince laughed. A sound like glass tinkling down rocks. This was something Alant did not know an Elmorr’Antien could do.
“That is not your reason. At least, not your only one.”

Long moments once again stretched out. Finally, in a lower voice than before, Delmith continued.
“I have some… concerns when it comes to the Alant boy.”

“Concerns? How so?”

“Have you attempted to perform a Chi’tar upon him?”

“I have, and was unsuccessful. Yet, there are a rare few Humans whom it has been recorded that the Chi’tar cannot be performed upon—all of them Shapers. It is an odd thing. I do not, however, see how it relates.”

“As you say, my Prince. Yet, I also suspect that the boy speaks our tongue—or at least understands it.”

“That is preposterous!”
Prince Aritian’s voice made it clear that he truly had no doubt of this, yet Alant was more frightened now than ever.
“Never in the recorded history of our race has any outsider been able to speak our tongue. It is forbidden to even speak it outside of one of our cities!”

“As you say, my Prince. Alas, I do believe it may be so.”

“Why? What cause have you?”

“Little things, my Prince. He seemed shocked the first time we spoke in front of him.”

“Being shocked at hearing an unfamiliar tongue means nothing.”

“No, not in and of itself. Yet, he knew that we were coming for the Quiln boy. I found him watching from his room when we collected him.”

“That is worse, yet still not incriminating.”
The Prince laughed once more.
“I think you are—”

“He asked about the Mah’Sukai.”
It was the first time Alant heard Delmith speak over Prince Aritian, and he held his breath as a long silence stretched between the two.

“That is… a concern.”
Long moments continued to pile up.
“It seems that I was not in haste in sending a message to the Humans. The Essence owns its will, and all is decided.”

A rustling told Alant that the two Elmorr’Antiens were on the move. He strained his ears to catch anything else that might be said between them. He noticed that the Tarsith hanging around his neck had grown warm once more, and knew he would learn nothing else. Removing his hand from Shaith’s plump lips, he stood, helping the girl up as he did.

Fire burned inside the green eyes of the dark skinned girl. “I do hope you have an explanation for this?”

Motioning her to be quiet—earning him another angry look—Alant took Shaith by the arm and headed back to the Chandril’elian at a brisk clip. He refused to say anything else to her until they were back in his room with the door shut.

With an exasperated sigh, she flopped onto his bed. “Either you be going crazy, or mayhaps I be for even asking, yet I will know what be going through that thick head of yours.”

Sitting down hard next to her, he lowered his chin into his hands. “I am uncertain.” Turning, he took her hands in his. “Look, I know you have trouble believing this. I understand what the Elmorr’Antiens are saying when they speak in their own tongue.” He held up a hand to forestall her protests. “I know. We have gone over this many times. You do not have to believe me. Alas, I think this evening they are coming for me.”

Her eyes grew large, then her mischievous grin popped to her lips. “You fool too much, I think.” When Alant’s facial features did not lose their worried state, Shaith’s grin slipped. “Or you be unsettled!”

She adjusted herself on the bed so that she had one leg bent before her, the other draped over the edge, resting her foot on the floor. “Tell me what you did hear.”

Blinking, Alant sat up straight. “So you believe me?”

“I never said I did no believe you.” He gave her a wry look. “I just did say it be difficult to accept. I do have to admit, you do act strange every time the Elmorr’Antiens go to talking. So tell me.”

“The first time—”

A loud click sounded through his tiny room and his door swung open, making both of them jump. Jerith stood in the doorway casting looks between the two with an odd expression on his face. “I thought I did hear your door, yet I no expected to find the
Princess
in here with you.”

Alant felt his face go flush. “It is not what you think.” Standing, he grabbed Jerith by the arm, pulled him into the room, and shut the door. With three now in the room there was no space for anything else. “Look, Jerith, you have been here longer than anyone.” He glanced at Shaith and motioned for her not to be offended. “How many Human Initiates have you seen since you arrived?”

Crossing his dark skinned arms across his chest, Jerith leaned against the wall next to the door. “In the three turns of the seasons I did be here, there have been three others—no including you two.”

“So two others, other than Quiln?”

The black boy nodded.

“And Quiln just left.”

Snorting, Jerith dropped his head and shook it. “Aye, Quiln did be sent home. And that be good riddance. The boy had no the skill to train here with us.”

Holding up his hands, Alant tried to halt what he knew would follow. “Just hear me out.” He sat back down next to Shaith and looked into her eyes. “I agree that Quiln was not skilled in the Essence. That he should not have been here. Yet, even Jerith said he did not speak at all the morn he left.”

“It did be apparent that the boy be upset.” Jerith gave the same response whenever Alant broached the subject of Quiln’s sudden departure.

“Be that as it may. The fact is he seemed…” Alant wanted to say stunned, yet he knew Jerith’s response to that as well. “…different.”

Shaith crossed her arms below her breasts. “Aye, he did seem more withdrawn that morn, yet…”

“And the others before him?” Alant looked back to Jerith. “What happened to them?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Jerith pushed himself off the wall. “The last did be a golden-haired brat from someplace she said be eastron of here, yet she be crazy as there be nothing in that direction except ocean.”

“I care not where she was from, what happened to her?”

“She did leave.”

“How? When?” Alant tried to keep the exasperation from his tone, yet found he was failing.

Shrugging once more, Jerith made a non-committal sound.

Shaith let out a loud sigh. “Her name did be Srist, or some such. She did be here when I arrived. And she did be sent off before we even knew she no be here anymore.”

“What were you told?”

“Nothing. She simply did be gone one morn.”

Making an exasperated sniff, Jerith yanked open the door. “You both be making more of this than it is. That little chit did be sent home. That be that.” Stepping into the hall, he slammed the door behind him.

“He just be jealous.”

This shocked Alant almost as much as Jerith’s anger. “What do you mean, jealous?”

She giggled and Alant’s heart skipped a beat. “Of us, silly.”

Finding his throat suddenly dry, Alant swallowed. “What do you mean, us?”

The dark-skinned girl laughed out loud. “Do no be so nervous. I simply did mean of us being friends. You may no see it, yet Jerith, he be Hek’kie. They be bred to fight, even if they no understand what they fight for.” The grin that always said she was up to no good sprang to her lips. “Still, it be good to know you think there be more to us.”

At the touch of her hand brushing his arm, Alant jumped from the bed. She followed him up and backed him against the wall, her wicked grin never leaving her mouth. “I still think you worry too much.” Reaching under his arm, she lifted the latch to his door. It swung silently open. Striding into the hall, she glanced back at him. “I say you will be fine. Alas, if the gray-ones do come for you, there be no much we can do about it.” Shutting the door behind her, she left him in the dimly lit room.

Looking around the tiny room as if it were new to him, he found that he was at a loss as to what to do.

I should be scared out
of
my wits. I have no idea what the Elmorr’Antiens plan for me. Alas, I am unsure if
that is my biggest fear, or my feelings for Shaith.

A
s the wagon crested a hill, Arderi Cor was met with a hauntingly familiar sight of the grand city of Mocley. Though this was the first instance his eyes had beheld the city, his mind knew it had been here before.

Alant’s Crystal!

It looked exactly the same as he remembered. Mocley spread out over the land like a blanket, covering hills and fields alike. It was as big as he remembered, and the outer walls ran like a great stone snake stretching off into the horizon. The vast, blue-green waters of the Glonlore Bay rolled off to the left of the city.

“It is so strange, returning somewhere you have never been.”

The Shaper, Jintrill Deln, shot him an inquisitive look. “What?”

Letting out a forced laugh, Arderi shook his head. “It is nothing.” Reaching under the seat, he withdrew the pack that contained the collector and Master Rillion’s sword, Dorochi.

“Are you planning on wearing two swords in town?”

“Nix, Sier.” Arderi carefully withdrew the collector. “I want to deliver this as soon as we enter the city.”

“Aye, I will take us directly to the Chandril’elian. The Council of Elders will be expecting it.”

“Nix!” Arderi had not meant for the word to come out as a command. Yet, the thought of appearing in front of a group of Master Shapers troubled him. He still had no idea what
power
rested inside him. Until he knew, he intended on keeping a good distance from any Master Shaper. “We will deliver it to Master Rillion’s widow. We owe him that much at least.”

Nodding, Jintrill sat back onto the wagon bench. “Aye, as you say. It should be easy to find his villa. I understand he was well respected here in Mocley.”

The wagons passed through Gatetown, its streets busy with activity, and toward the main gates. Even though Arderi had experienced the ride into Mocley through the Crystal Alant sent his family, the sheer oppressive weight of the massive walls of the city still bore down upon him like an avalanche. Guarders by the dozen, each garbed in yellow and blue tabards adorned with a talon clutching a wheat stalk, worn over a mail hauberk, milled around the entrance. For the most part, the guarders ignored the hundreds of people and animals who filled the square going about their daily lives.

Pausing in the large, cobblestone-paved area just outside the tunnel that led into the city proper, Arderi lost himself in the commotion as the caravan master conversed with a guarder who approached. Without incident, the lead wagon lurched forward and disappeared into the maw of the city, followed by the rest of the caravan.

The wagon he rode entered the tunnel and all light from outside disappeared. A sense of apprehension gripped Arderi. The shadows created by the torches lining the walls bounced and danced as they rode deeper into the interior of the tunnel. He stared up at the vaulted ceiling and the massive iron portcullises embedded in the center. As before, he could not fathom what mechanism could raise such a tremendous weight.

The smell of the Bazaar reached Arderi’s nose long before the sight of it, and the sounds deafened him. The wagons lurched back into the light and the surrounding sights overwhelmed him. People by the hundreds milled around the entrance to the Bazaar. Men and women and animals all mixed together in a swirl of motion and color. All fighting their way through what looked like an impenetrable mass of bodies.

Turning, Arderi focused on Jintrill in the hopes of regaining some semblance of sanity. A feeling of hopelessness threatened to overwhelm him. “How can we possibly get anywhere in this?” His voice strained as he yelled, attempting to be heard over the din of the place.

“This?” The Shaper waved a hand over the crowd and a broad smile sprang to his lips. “This is just market day. It is not hard. You just have to catch a current of people going in the general direction you wish to travel.”

Looking back over the crowd, all Arderi saw was a chaotic sea of bodies slamming into one another. The wagons had made little progress since entering the city proper, even though the caravan master shouted at anyone in front of him while snapping his whip violently in the air above their heads.

“Come on.” Jintrill tugged at Arderi. “We will make faster time on foot.” Pulling Arderi along in his wake, the Shaper jumped off the wagon and threaded his way through the crowd.

Arderi was thankful that the Sier kept hold of his sleeve, for if they became separated, he doubted he would ever see him again.

I am not certain I could even find the main gates again!

Although, with one last pull from the Shaper, Arderi found that they were in a group of people heading in the same direction, and their pace increased dramatically. Worming his way past an old woman with a large sack thrown over her shoulder, Arderi fell into pace beside Jintrill. “Do you have any idea where we are headed?”

Letting out a laugh, the Shaper clasped a hand on Arderi’s shoulder. “Aye, my brave swordsman. I grew up here. We are headed to Old Town. That is probably the best place to look for our destination. The crowds will thin some the closer we get to Old Town, as well. I will ask a Watchman of the Gate and see if anyone knows if Master Rillion has a villa there.

The stream of people surrounding the two young men carried them through a smaller interior gate and into a different part of the city. Stepping through the large arch, Arderi was awestruck by the sight of an imposing marble building. It was more than massive—taller by far than any building he had ever seen.

Some of its spires stretch so high they seem lost in the clouds!

Wide open staircases ascended for dozens of paces, each bedecked with meticulously carved statues of the Twelve Gods of Man. The stairs led to an airy porch framed with low walls decorated with frescos carved into the stone.

“Welcome to New Town.” Jintrill smiled at Arderi. “I have been told that our Palintium is the most beautiful temple to the Twelve anywhere on the Plane.”

Swallowing hard, Arderi nodded. “Aye, I never dreamed a building could take my breath away.”

Grabbing Arderi by the arm, Jintrill pulled him away from the Palintium and further into the city. The two walked down a wide, cobblestone-paved street, winding their way through tides of people.

How can so many live in one place?

The splendor of the Palintium faded from Arderi’s thoughts once they walked into the shadows of an even larger stone structure. This building’s walls were as high and wide as those of his home stead. Arderi stopped in his tracks and had to crane his neck to see the top, where colorful streamers wafted gently in the breeze. “Is that a stead inside the city walls?”

Letting out a laugh, Jintrill shook his head. “Nix. That is the Grand Coliseum, you country lout.”

Pointing upwards, Arderi’s jaw fell open. “That is a building? It is bigger than Hild’alan!”

“Aye, and nearly a quarter of all the people who live here in Mocley can find a seat inside during one of the events held there.”

This is where the Games are held! How many Bard’s tales have I heard centered around this very building?

They followed a road that skirted alongside the great building. Arderi could not stop staring up at the Coliseum as they passed.

Finally, after walking inside the city walls for near an aurn, Jintrill strode up to a guarder who stood watch at yet another interior gate. “Hail, Watchman.”

The guarder nodded briskly. “Hail, Sier. How may I assist?”

“I am hoping you have heard of a man who goes by the name Clytus Rillion. I am told he has a villa somewhere in Old Town.”

“Aye, Sier. If you mean Clytus Rillion, Commander of the Rillion mercenary troop.”

“Aye, that is the man I seek.”

The guarder rubbed his chin. “I have not seen him for many a moon. He may be out of the city.” The man threw a thumb over his shoulder, pointing deeper into the city. “His villa is not hard to find. Continue down Coliseum and head west on Cross. It is down in that section.”

“My thanks to you.” Jintrill stepped past the man and through the gate.

Raising a hand to wave at the guarder, Arderi hurried to catch up with the Shaper. After a few more inquiries, the two arrived at the gates of a small walled villa.

The walls themselves were some four or five paces high of smooth, white granite. An iron-spiked fence adorned the top and followed the wall as it snaked from the entrance way off in either direction. The wall curved around until it connected with the walls that protected the adjacent homes. Peering through the bars of the gate, Arderi saw a spacious cobblestone courtyard. In the center, surrounded by blooming flowers, a large fountain gurgled. Beyond the fountain, he saw a flight of steps leading to the main door. From his right, a loud banging resounded as someone slammed the stable door shut.

A gruff looking shirtless man came striding up to the gate. Arderi had never seen a man with skin so dark, as if someone had painted him black. Sweat poured down the sides of his face and scarred chest. Pulling a dirty rag from his belt, he began wiping down his body. “Aye, Sier, What might I do for you?” Exasperation dripped from his voice.

The man’s accent was thick, and Arderi had a difficult time understanding him.

“Is this the home of Clytus Rillion?”

Tucking the rag back into his belt, a grim look passed over his features, and his words were no longer irritated, they were down right angry. “Aye, tis. I did already tell the Order I no have any news as of yet.”

“You misunderstand, sir.” Jintrill took a step back and waved an arm toward Arderi. “The one who needs to speak with you is this young man.”

Arderi’s face flushed. He had spent the time since Jintrill started inquiring about directions trying to decide what he would say once they arrived at their destination.

Where do I begin?

Kneeling down, Arderi unslung his pack from his back, opened it, and withdrew Master Rillion’s sword. Rising, he held the blade out before him.

The shirtless man’s eyes went wide. Without looking away from the sword, he reached out for the latch on the gate and fumbled with it for many moments before he wrenched the gate open. Taking a step out onto the road, he simply stood, rooted. Finally, he raised his head and locked eyes with Arderi. “Then he be…”

Arderi saw the pain in the man’s eyes. Not trusting himself to speak, Arderi bowed his head and held out his hands, offering up the sword.

Taking the weapon, the man turned and walked into the villa. “Come, you both look weary. I will see that you get refreshments.”

The man led the way into the villa and showed them to a small room directly off the entrance hall. They found several large chairs scattered around the room, and each sank cautiously into one of them. They stared after their guide as he disappeared further into the villa.

Glancing nervously at Jintrill, Arderi opened his mouth to speak. He snapped his mouth shut when a loud, mournful wail of a woman sliced through the house. The cry viciously attacked anything that had ears with which to hear. It rolled out continuously, seemingly without end, and Arderi wondered how one person could have so much breath. When it finally did stop, a haunting silence filled the air.

Shifting in his seat, Arderi watched Jintrill’s face go pale. For some reason, this calmed him a bit.

Within moments, the man from the gate, now wearing a shirt, came in caring a tray of meats and fruits and a pitcher beaded with sweat. He poured two mugs of a golden colored liquid and handed one to each. “My name be Ragnor. I be the custodian here while Master Rillion be away.” He had a formality to his tone, laced with a numbness Arderi himself felt. “The mistress of the house will join us when she be up to the task. For now, I would hear your tale.”

Taking a quick sip from his cup, Arderi told his story the same way he had in the dining hall of his home. Here, too, he refrained from telling anything that happened in private between Clytus and him. While he told of the events, Jintrill added things that the Shaper felt were important.

Once all was said, Ragnor rose to his feet and bowed low to each in turn. “Sier Deln, Mir’am Cor, my thanks to you both. For your friendship to Master Rillion, as well as your courage and loyalty to his cause.” Reaching out, he picked up the collector that Arderi had removed from his pack during his tale. “I will see that this be used for the purpose it did be meant.”

Arderi grabbed onto Ragnor’s arm as the man started to turn and leave. “One more thing, Mir’am—”

I do not know his surname!

“Please, do call me Ragnor.”

“Aye, sir.” Arderi reached into his pouch and withdrew the Crystal Master Rillion had given to him. “I was also instructed to pass this along to you by name. Master Rillion said you would know how to handle things from there.”

A puzzled look crossed Ragnor’s dark face as he reached out and took the Crystal. “It be getting late. Do you two have somewhere to stay for the eve?”

Jintrill rose. “I have rooms in the Chandril’elian, and I think the Council of Elders would be cross with me if I delay my return much longer.” He looked over to Arderi. “You may stay with me if you wish.”